


Ever-changing Destiny...

by limelightwrites



Category: Cookie Run (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:47:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28333359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limelightwrites/pseuds/limelightwrites
Summary: One must not get caught up in assuming life will be led in one way, when destinies and fate have their fickle methods of altering one's course... as the Darkness consumes the Sacred Pomegranate Tree, its young priestess simply watches, betraying the destiny she once assumed was her own, and began to embrace a new one, one forged by the Darkness.
Kudos: 9





	Ever-changing Destiny...

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is another little bunch of headcanons based on Pomegranate Cookie this time! This may or may not tie into the old project I had been working on titled "Between the Sea and the Stars".

Pomegranate Cookie believed in the concept of destiny, and fate. It was this very belief that was recited daily within the coven of sorcerers which praised the Sacred Pomegranate Tree. Day in and day out, she was told of her destiny to become the Tree's caretaker, to tend to the tree for as long as she lived. For a while, she was content with this fate, and she carried out her daily duties diligently.

Her tasks were simple at first: most of it consisted of cleaning something, whether it was to be the shrine that sat at the base of the Tree itself, or the dining area for the other sorcerers, the priestess was always on her knees, wiping at stubborn stains, or easily cleansing a surface of a thin veil of dust. Though soon, this work was given to another apprentice, and Pomegranate began her studies in the realm of magic. More specifically, the special magical spells she was required to know, as a priestess serving the Sacred Pomegranate Tree. Her new mentor, a young woman with years of knowledge and some kind of hidden, obscure pain in her gaze, promised daily that her lessons would start soon. Though for a while, they never did. The most Pomegranate received was empty promises for a new lesson, which never came.

And then one day, she was gifted with her Mirror. The Mirror of Morality, her mentor called it. It was a beautiful item, with little talismans hanging from its sides, and its surface gleaming with a deep red hue. Pomegranate felt the holy aura pulsate from within her covered hand, and she pressed the artifact to her chest. This was to be her instrument, and it would never leave her possession ever again, not until the day she died. 

And so began her formal training, first with wielding the Mirror as a Mirror of its status should be. Little things were discussed and practiced, like how to properly hold the artifact, and how to maintain its appearance, from wiping the surface to making sure the talismans on either side were free of debris and grime. But even those trivial lessons paved the way for something truly important: how to cast the Mirror's sacred Spell, meant to exact the Sacred Tree's wrath upon the world, in one concentrated beam of dark red light. The young priestess was truly grateful for this lesson, after the weeks of inaction.

The weeks and months flew by, and Pomegranate learned more every passing day. Whether it was her mentor, the Cookie who helped her wield her Mirror, and use it properly, or another sorcerer from the coven, who'd teach her spells that would create Pomegranate Beads, powerful objects that'd burst into little Pomegranate Pieces, which pulsed with magical energy. She was told only snippets of what that energy would be used for in the end, though it was clear the energy was stored, with no way to access it easily.

No matter how much Pomegranate prodded and poked, her mentor would say nothing about the true purpose of Pomegranate Beads. Until one day, the normally soft expression her mentor wore gave way to a tired one. And Pomegranate knew she was about to get her answer.

"Little one, the magic from Pomegranate Pieces go toward one final burst of magic, condensed into a Pomegranate Drop. One final wish, from a dying sorcerer, to give the consumer immeasurable magical prowess, at the cost of a life." And her mentor sighed again, attempting to start the daily lesson as if nothing had been shared. But the answer echoed in Pomegranate's head, and it became the only thing she thought of. To die for the Tree... this was her destiny. Though she was oblivious to the shortness of this belief, for months later came the Calling.

At least, that is what Pomegranate called it after the fact. When her Mirror shone bright one evening, it drew her attention to the artifact. And it told her of a Prophecy, one of Darkness. It described the lands she called home, and the coven of sorcerers, as well as the Sacred Pomegranate Tree herself, being washed in the dark, the lifeforce feeding into the darkness itself, and its wielder. This Calling was the first time the young priestess had ever challenged her own beliefs. Was tending the Tree truly to be her destiny? Was this to be her life, or would this mysterious Darkness interrupt such a life? Was this her destiny, to become the Darkness's new herald? Whatever it was, the young priestess couldn't help but mull over it. And the questions soon consumed her thoughts.

She continued to doubt. And that seed of doubt grew, until she began to neglect her trainings and duties, and even her mentor and the other sorcerers were unable to figure out what was wrong. Though the confusion was short-lived, for the Prophecy soon came to be: a wave of Darkness, sweeping across the reddish lands of the Pomegranate sorcerers. Each sorcerer attempted to ward off this darkness, but one by one, they fell, only to be consumed by the void. And from the confines of her room, watching through the window, was Pomegranate the young priestess, knowing that this was her destiny; as she watched the Sacred Pomegranate Tree crumble into a mush, and its red shine slowly fade to a dull nothing, she knew and embraced her new purpose: to serve the Darkness, and her new mistress. So she opened her window, hopped to the ground, and allowed the spreading Darkness to approach.

And the spreading darkness halted at the edges of her robes. From the depths emerged an enigmatic figure, one of an older woman, dressed in black and red, with a staff made of bone, its skull staring eerily at Pomegranate, though the older woman wore nothing short of an amused smile.

"Young one. I've felt your desire long before I even approached this place. You wish to serve this growing Darkness with all of your now darkened, corrupted heart." The woman's expression grew more sinister. "Not many glimpse their fate, and accept it so readily."

Pomegranate's voice died in her throat just as she opened her mouth to respond. This woman was the wielder of the Darkness, its master. And now, this woman was Pomegranate's master. There was no disputing that. So instead of continuing to attempt to speak, Pomegranate fell to her knees, and bowed low, so that her forehead brushed against the withering grass beneath her. And that gesture was all her new master seemed to want, as Pomegranate felt a hand on her back.

"Fine then. You will come with me, Pomegranate Cookie. You will serve as my Disciple, and spread my darkness far and wide. Do you understand?"

Pomegranate nodded, though now she found she was able to speak again. She lifted her head, and what she said next came out in a soft but strong whisper. "I will do as you command, Master."

"Good. Though something needs to be changed first. Hand me your Mirror." The woman held out her free hand, and Pomegranate, without a second thought, handed the artifact over. The priestess watched as her beloved Mirror of Morality began to darken itself, the holy glow turning foul. The artifact returned to Pomegranate's covered hand, and she felt the evil aura emanating from the transformed item. 

"There we are. An artifact fitting of my new Disciple: the Mirror of Malice. Use it to spread this Darkness far and wide, so that none may stand in our way."

Pomegranate nodded, a small smile beginning to grow on her face, the first in a long time. This was to be her destiny. And the priestess found that she wanted nothing more.


End file.
